


intimacy: a prompt collection

by GreenyLove



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Fluff, Humor, Intimacy, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27765967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenyLove/pseuds/GreenyLove
Summary: an ongoing collection of short fics centered around expressions of closeness ♡additional tags at the beginning of each chapter![TABLE OF CONTENTS]1. iwaoitsukki2. omigiri3. kurotsukkiken4. kagesuga5. tsukihina6. shiratsukki7. bakt8. oisuga9. sakuatsu10. krtsk11. tsukihina12. omitsukki13. asadaisuga
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Hinata Shouyou/Tsukishima Kei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru/Tsukishima Kei, Kageyama Tobio/Sugawara Koushi, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Tsukishima Kei, Shirabu Kenjirou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 22
Kudos: 276





	1. iwaoitsukki (stealing clothes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: iwaizumi x oikawa x tsukishima  
> additional tags: clothes sharing, mild swearing, polyamory (m/m/m)

“Oi, where the fuck is my hoodie?” 

Oikawa’s voice floats down the hall. “Which hoodie, babe?” 

“The UCI one!” It needs no further description: navy blue and sun-faded, buttery soft from years of washes, renowned for its ability to stay warm hours after it leaves the dryer. A common target for both of Iwaizumi’s clothes-stealing boyfriends. 

The silence from Oikawa’s room is quite telling. 

“You know I don’t care if you borrow my clothes if you ask first.” Iwaizumi crosses his arms, leaning one shoulder against the door jam. 

Oikawa blinks as innocently as he can for a man sitting in plain sight wearing only the stolen hoodie and a pair of tight boxers. He folds his long legs onto his chair and gestures to the school work scattered across his desk. “Sorry, Iwa, I was just studying so diligently…” 

A snort comes from the bed. Only Tsukishima’s mussed hair is visible above the edge of the blanket cocoon. “He’s got Amazon open on his browser.” 

“Kei-chan!” Oikawa snaps his laptop shut, scandalized and betrayed. 

Iwaizumi points at the blonde.  _ “You _ promised to help me with dishes.”

“...I don’t recall that.”

“Come on.” A fond smile creeps onto his mouth. “You wash, I’ll dry.”

Tsukishima groans, but climbs out of Oikawa’s bed. He’s distractingly shirtless. Iwaizumi flattens himself to give him room to shuffle past. 

Oikawa gasps and glares. “Softie, Iwa! You never help me with  _ my _ chores!” 

“Stop stealing my clothes, and — what the hell, Kei, are those my sweats?” 

Tsukishima shuffles faster. Oikawa cackles. Iwaizumi gives up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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	2. osasaku

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: osamu x sakusa  
> additional tags: domestic fluff

The sky is bleary grey, the wind watery as it sends ginkgo branches smacking around the window. Osamu whistles as he pads around the kitchen, a cheerful countenance to the somber bluster outside. He packs three onigiri and a strip of electrolyte gummies into a plain black lunchbox. 

“Good timin’.” He grins at Sakusa as he comes in, raincoat already zipped up to his chin. “Just finished yer lunch.”

A faint pinkness creeps over the edges of that face mask. “Thank you.” 

“Sure ya don’t want soup? Or somethin’ warmer?” 

Sakusa’s grip on the lunch box tightens possessively. “Whatever you already packed it fine. I shouldn’t have anything too heavy in the middle of practice.” 

Osamu shrugs, nonplussed. He shucks off his nitrile gloves and catches Sakusa around the waist as the professional athlete turns to leave. Sakusa doesn’t stiffen or shy away, just inhales quietly. 

That blush gets redder. Osamu’s heart about  _ busts. _

“Good luck, darlin’.” He rubs his palms right along the dip above his hips and kisses him gentle and dry through his mask. “See ya tonight.” 

Sakusa relaxes, just enough to feel under his hands. “I don’t need luck.” The pale skin around those dark eyes wrinkle in the way Osamu knows means he’s smiling. “I’ll be very well-fed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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	3. kurotsukkiken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: kuroo x tsukki x kenma  
> additional tags: sleepy mornings, hugs from behind, domestic fluff, nonbinary kenma, they/them pronouns for kenma, polyamory (m/m/n-b)

Kuroo is a simple man. He wakes up on a lazy weekend morning. He hunts through the sleep-warm covers in search of a boyfriend and finds his bed unpleasantly empty. He frowns and grumbles — he has exactly one need and that’s  _ morning cuddles, _ so where are his live-in cuddlers? 

The smell of pancakes hit him. 

Okay, he has exactly two needs. 

“Congratulations, pancake chef, you are my favorite for the day,” he announces as he wanders into the kitchen. A shocked gasp leaves him when he sees Kenma at the stove, poking a bubbling lump of batter with a spatula. Their expression is pinched and frowny and so adorable, Kuroo could weep. 

He can’t stop his giggle. Kenma cuts them with a paint-stripping glare but that does not stop Kuroo from sliding up behind them and wrapping his arms around their middle. “Maybe I should wait to try these...pancakes first, huh?” he teases. 

Kenma sighs. They wiggle the spatula under the pancake and attempt to flip it. It splats in a frighteningly wet lump on the oiled pan. “I hate cooking.” 

“I appreciate the thought.” Kuroo kisses the top of their head. “I bet we can salvage them.” 

“We are out of eggs.” 

“Do you need eggs for pancakes?” 

“Do I look like a pancake expert?” 

A third body joins them — Tsukishima slips his arms around Kuroo and Kenma, burying his hands in the pockets of Kenma’s overlarge hoodie. “Those smell weird,” comes his criticism, muffled where his face smooshes between Kuroo’s shoulder blades. 

Kenma flicks the burner off and shoves the offensive mess towards the back of the stove. “I’m going back to bed.” 

“Now  _ there’s _ a good idea.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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	4. kagesuga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: kageyama x sugawara  
> additional tags: none

The station bustles with evening commuters. Sendai is nothing like the ceaseless comings and goings of Tokyo, but there is still noise and the rattle of trains and the drone of the intercom. Kageyama is used to it but it still makes his palms sweat, his chest a little tight. 

Or maybe that’s just Sugawara. 

“Did you remember your charger?” his boyfriend asks, fussing with the ends of his scarf, brushing nonexistent dirt off his shoulders. 

“I’ve been to Tokyo before,” Kageyama reminds him. 

Sugawara frowns. “I know, but not for the National Men’s Volleyball Team! Not to discuss the Olympics!” 

Something in his chest knots up. He flushes and looks down where their shoes point together and digs through his brain for something soothing. “I’ll...text you when I get there?” 

This is the right thing to say. Sugawara softens, rubs a hand up and down his arm. His coppery eyes brim with love. “Okay. Thank you.” 

The intercom announces the arrival of his train on the platform above. Kageyama turns away, following directions to report to his platform on instinct. A hand on his hip stops him. 

Sugawara grabs his waist and spins him around into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so proud of you, Tobio,” he whispers against his neck. “You're the most amazing, talented player I’ve ever seen. You’re going to dazzle them.” 

The knot loosens. Kageyama hugs him back just as hard, if not harder. “Thank you.” He buries his nose against that silky silver hair and memorizes the smell. “I had a very good teacher.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. tsukihina (nose touches)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: tsukishima x hinata
> 
> additional tags: none!

The whistle blows for a water break. Tsukishima marches stiffly into the far corner of the gym and sits with his long legs bent up against his chest. Towel over his hair, radiating a potent  _ fuck off _ energy. His scrimmage team lost the last rally because of  _ his _ mistakes. He doesn’t want the pity or the consoling pats or the well-intentioned pep talks. He wants to be alone. The rest of his teammates must sense this, because they stay away.

“Grumpyshima!” 

The rest of his teammates, sans one. 

He sees his sneakers first, white and red and so much smaller than his own. Then he sees legs, scuffed-up knees, a band-aid with lemons on it. Rumpled shorts, a sweaty practice shirt, and then his towel sanctuary is invaded by ginger with too-wide eyes and a distracting pink mouth. 

“Go away,” Tsukishima mumbles into his arms. 

Hinata ignores him. He bullies his way between his legs but leaves the towel over both of them. In their small, greyish world, he pouts at Tsukishima. “What are you being so  _ bluhhhh _ for? That last block was awesome!” 

“We still lost.” 

“So?” Hinata leans closer, his chin jutting out stubbornly. “Are you gonna get any better if you sit in a corner like some...cranky supervillain?” 

“Hinata,” he warns. 

Closer still. “Like some broody shojo love interest?” 

Their noses brush. Tsukishima’s ears are red. “Gross,” he says, the way others might say,  _ thank you.  _

Hinata smiles. Tsukishima is practically cross-eyed but he can still see the stupid  _ sparkle _ in his eyes. 

He leans forwards, and taps their noses together. “Don’t worry, it’s hot,” he says, and scoots away with a shriek when Tsukishima tries to smack his head. Tsukishima hauls himself back onto his feet and drifts after Hinata. 

Wisely, no one makes fun of his blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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	6. shiratsukki (heartbeats)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: shirabu x tsukishima
> 
> additional tags: heartbeats, medical things, very implied sexual content

“Sit still, please.” 

Tsukishima fidgets on the barstool, goosebumps crawling down his arms. “It’s cold.” 

“Baby,” Shirabu sneers though with much less condescension that there would be for anyone else. 

He holds the stethoscope against Tsukishima’s bare chest, elegant fingers firm on the bell. He listens to the  _ thump thump _ through the earpieces and frowns in concentration. Tsukishima wants to reach out and mess up his bangs, just to see him blush. 

But he doesn’t. He sits still and lets his boyfriend practice. Shirabu moves from one side of his chest to the other, then to his back. The chilled touch of the instrument to his flank has him twitching away with a disgruntled whine. “It’s still cold.” 

“Oh my god, Kei, I’m almost done.” 

Tsukishima rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “You’re the worst doctor ever.” 

“I’m not a doctor yet.” Shirabu hooks the stethoscope around his neck and scrawls something in his notebook. 

Tsukishima fiddles with the tubing, blinking up at Shirabu as he drags a coy foot up the back of his leg. “That’s too bad. I have this weird cramp in my thigh. I was hoping a real doctor could fix it.” 

Shirabu’s chin juts out, mulish like he gets when he’s defeated but won’t admit it. He clears his throat and flips through the textbook on the counter. “My unit on muscle groups isn’t until next week.” 

“But...?” Tsukishima grins. 

Shirabu smirks. “I’m a diligent student,” he says, and leans in for a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	7. bakt (clothes shopping)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: bokuto x akaashi x kuroo x tsukishima
> 
> additional tags: trans girl tsukishima, polyamory (m/m/m/f), domestic, gender euphoria

“Can I help you find anything today, ma'am?” 

Tsukki startles and blinks down at the sales associate. She adjusts the growing selection of cold-weather clothing draped across her arm. “Oh, uh, no thank you.” 

“No worries.” The associate smiles. “Are you ready for a fitting room? I can send some items aside there while you shop.” 

Before Tsukki can open her mouth, a warm arm snakes around her waist and Kuroo collects the hangers in his free hand. “I think we’re still browsing, thanks,” he says, polite unless you know him. “We’ll let you know when we need you.” 

As the associate shuffles away, Tsukki glares, crossing her arms over her chest. “That was rude.” 

“Was it?” Kuroo says innocently. “She seemed pushy.” 

Bokuto jogs up, weaving through the racks. He holds up a chunky knitted sweater, warm beige with a familiar red fruit embroidered around the neckline. “Look, Tsukki! Strawberries! This will keep you super warm.” 

“I have a lot of sweaters, Bo.” 

“Yeah, but you’re always cold,” Bokuto says with a frown, his thick brows drawn up in concern. Tsukki admits defeat and waves it onto the pile in Kuroo’s arms. 

Akaashi touches her elbows and holds up a pair of earrings. Shiny three-inch gold chains, so delicate they are nearly translucent. Charms shaped like golden stars dangle from the ends. “Your lobes are about healed, yes? What do you think of these?” 

Tsukki flushes, brushing her fingertips against the simple diamond studs pierced through her ears. “They’re pretty,” she admits, shy. 

“How fitting." Akaashi tucks a curl behind her ear and leans up to kiss her cheek. "So are you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	8. oisuga (smiling while kissing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: oikawa x sugawara
> 
> additional tags: nonbinary sugawara, they/them pronouns for sugawara, kisses

“Stop laughing,” Oikawa whines, petulant. “It’s not funny.”

Sugawara continues to giggle, bright and birdlike. “Oh, it’s  _ very _ funny.”

They pry apart Oikawa’s crossed arms with persistent wiggling fingers until there’s enough room to wrap their own arms around that firm torso. Sugawara smiles up at his boyfriend as though there isn’t a huge mountain of soap suds spreading across on the laundry room floor. The poor washing machine rumbles and rocks, warm water leaking down the sides.

Oikawa pouts. “I’ve clearly been sabotaged.” 

“Hmm, right.” Suga muses, brushing fingers through that handsome swoop of hair always falling across Oikawa’s forehead. “The wicked detergent people and their vendetta against clean gym shorts.” 

“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” Oikawa warns him, churlish. His sweatpants are damp to the ankles.

Suga cups his face, fingers splayed along his jaw, and peppers him with kisses. “I’m exactly as cute as I think I am.” Kiss, kiss. “And  _ you _ are a darling, handsome, perfect man.” Kiss. “Who _never_ reads the directions on the box.” 

“Koushi!” Oikawa whines. Sugawara grins and presses their mouths together. 

Oikawa pouts, screws his eyes shut and does  _ not _ react when Sugawara pets down his chest imploringly. Nope. Not even a twitch of his lips. He is impervious to this  _ rude, awful goblin. _

Then Sugawara pouts, but still doesn’t break the kiss. Oikawa peeks out from behind his lashes and sees those huge coppery eyes, wide and beseeching. Their bottom lips roll together, pouts competing for space. It’s stubborn and silly and before he can stop himself, Oikawa grins against that pretty pink mouth. 

“Fine,” he whines, returning Sugawara's kiss with a firm _smack._ He gestures forlornly to the sad state of the laundry room. “I guess you’ll have to do all my laundry from now on.” 

“Nice try.” Sugawara pats his chest and smiles. “Come on, you’ve got a lot of mopping to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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	9. sakuatsu (touching noses)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: sakusa x atsumu
> 
> additional tags: none!

Sakusa hears Atsumu before he feels him. 

Snuffling, an indelicate sniff and a wet exhale. The murmur of blankets as he rolls over and kicks his legs through the covers. Sakusa feels his feet first, cold toes squirming between his calves, then knees bumping his, then the sculpted cut of those thighs. Their bodies fit together, puzzle piece perfect. It makes no fucking sense. 

Hands creep around his waist, burrow up the back of his shirt. What does it say about Sakusa’s taste in partners, that Miya Atsumu is the one he allows this close to him? 

He feels the heat of another chest near his own. Then a warm breath on his forehead. Then — 

“If you kiss me without brushing your teeth first, there will be consequences.” 

Atsumu pauses. Sakusa finally opens his eyes in time to watch him flop against the pillow, put-off and fuzzy-eyed, cheeks still warm from sleep.

“The sexy kind of consequences?” Atsumu mumbles hopefully. 

Sakusa snorts. “Do tongue scrapers arouse you?” A disquieting pause.  _ “Atsumu.” _

“What! Lots of things are sexy when Omi-kun does them!”

Sakusa rolls his eyes but makes no move to untangle their bodies. Atsumu rolls closer again, nuzzling against his neck while setter hands trace nonsense across the planes of his back. Sakusa rests a gentle hand in the dip of Atsumu’s waist. It's permission and his companion knows it. Atsumu lights up, leans his face in close once more.

“No mouths,” Sakusa warns.

“Trust me, Omi.” 

He touches his cold nose to Sakusa’s and smiles soft and guileless. Sakusa sighs, his own mouth twitching in return. Some things would never make sense, he supposed, and perhaps they were lovelier for it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i take requests! [visit my carrd](https://greenywrites.carrd.co/#commissions) and scroll down to the bottom for more info. 
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	10. krtsk (hand kisses)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: kuroo x tsukishima
> 
> additional tags: hand kisses, canon compliant

“I can walk myself back.” 

“No, no,” Kuroo corrects patiently, “that violates my strict personal code of honor and hospitality. Who knows what kind of weirdos might take advantage of a shy blonde cutie at this time of night?” 

Tsukishima stiffens, hackles rising. He feels his ears and the back of his neck grow hot. Kuroo’s face lights up, impish and handsome. Unfortunately handsome. Maybe Tsukishima is getting sick. 

He scowls and looks aways, fists tensing and relaxing at his sides.  _ “You _ are the weirdest person in all of Tokyo,” he shoots back, testy. “Who will protect me from you?” 

Kuroo pauses just outside the side entrance to Saitama High. Humidity and sweat catch the moonlight and he should look rakish, dangerous — and maybe for a moment he does — but then he fixes Tsukishima with that canny, cat-eyed look like he’s perused all the skeletons in Tsukishima’s closet and thinks they’re neat instead of shameful. 

“Tsukki.” He reaches out and trails his fingers down Tsukishima’s pale forearm. “You don't need it. You hold all the power, here.” 

He weaves their fingers together until they are palm to palm. He opens the door and tugs gently on their joined hands. “Watch your step. It’s dark.” 

The school after curfew is a quiet grey world of humming air-cons and bluish moonlight. Kuroo’s hand is warm, almost as warm as the persistent blush that won’t die off Tsukishima’s cheeks. When they reach the door of Karasuno’s makeshift dorm, Kuroo moves to take back his hand. 

Tsukishima panics and tightens his grip. 

“Tsukki?” 

_ You hold all the power, here. _ Tsukishima glances up at Kuroo through pale lashes. He lifts Kuroo’s hand to his mouth. Kisses the smooth, salty skin on the back just hard enough to feel the shape of the metacarpals under his lips. Kuroo inhales sharply. 

“Goodnight, Kuroo-san,” Tsukishima murmurs, and slips his hand free. He steps through the door, leaving Kuroo poleaxed in the dark hall behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	11. tsukihina (stealing clothes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: tsukishima x hinata
> 
> additional tags:

Tsukishima opens the door to find one excitable Hinata, sipping a frozen slushie. He’s dressed in fitted jeans and a soft purple shirt, two yellow hair clips pinning his bangs off his face. It's long enough now to fall in his eyes. He insists that long hair makes him look more intimidating. Tsukishima declines to comment. (And not because Hinata has the infuriating ability to dry up his words with a single sunny smile.)

“It’s so nice outside,” Hinata says as he steps into the genkan. His mouth is stained electric raspberry blue. He is purposefully slow in slipping off his shoes. “Shimashima, we could study at the  _ paaaark.” _

“No.” Tsukishima shuts the front door. “Last time, you chased after a bee.” He grabs Hinata around his (very firm) bicep and hauls him towards the stairs. “Then you failed your test, and you moped.” 

_ And it wasn’t cute, nope. _

Hinata groans, head tipped towards the ceiling, and trudges up the staircase. Tsukishima follows, frowning. Something niggles at the back of his mind but he can’t pin it down. 

Until they are both in his bedroom, Hinata dumping his school bag all over the bed, and it clicks. 

_ “Are you wearing my shirt?”  _

Hinata stiffens. “Uh. Maybe?” 

Tsukishima gapes. It’s not cute, it’s  _ not cute _ . 

“Take it off, right now.”  Hinata sputters and backs away. Tsukishima darts across the room, grabbing at the hem. “The others will be here any second. You have to change.” 

“But I don’t have another shirt! Do you want me to be  _ naked?” _

Tsukishima has the shirt half-off his head when the bedroom door opens and Yamaguchi freezes in the doorway, Yachi and Kageyama behind him. Everyone stills. Tsukishima glares, murderous. 

Yamaguchi throws up his hands. “I won’t even ask.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> kudos/comments refill my stamina bar <3


	12. omitsukki (touching foreheads)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: sakusa x tsukishima 
> 
> additional tags: mentions of mysophobia

The night is warm and wet, sidewalk scattered with puddles dyed golden orange by the streetlamps. The rain cleared up just in time to walk from the small diner back to Tsukishima’s apartment. Sakusa keeps his leather-gloved hands in his coat pockets, and Tsukishima mirrors his posture. They walk almost close enough to brush shoulders. Tsukishima stares at him out of the corner of those honey-warm eyes only to look away each time Sakusa catches him. The tips of his ears are red by the time they reach his building. 

Tsukishima stops at the bottom of the stoop. “Thank you for dinner.” 

“Of course.” Inside his pockets, Sakusa’s hands flex. He wants to touch him — just a hand, on his elbow, layers of clothes between their skin. He doesn’t. 

“Do you want to come upstairs?” Tsukishima blurts out, and then freezes in horror. The blonde hunches his shoulders under the burden of his own embarrassment. “I’m — please forget I said that. I know it’s not that simple.” 

Under his mask, Sakusa nearly bites through his lip. He glances up at the third story window, second from the left. He thinks about stepping into an apartment he’s never seen, sitting on a couch that isn’t his own. He thinks about germs and surfaces and strict boundaries. His skin goes clammy, but the apprehension on Tsukishima’s face makes his chest hurt. 

He thinks of Tsukishima and boundaries become...negotiable. 

He takes a deliberate step closer. Tsukishima’s gaze jerks up. “I appreciate your patience,” Sakusa says lowly. 

Tsukishima’s cheeks are the loveliest pink. He tangles his own fingers together and doesn’t touch Sakusa. 

“I am sorry, I didn’t even  _ mean _ to ask, I just...” Tsukishima trails off, shy. 

The hurt in his chest melts into something softer. Sakusa catches his gaze, black on gold. With great tenderness, he leans forward, until their foreheads barely touch, skin rain-cool, bangs frizzy and damp. Tsukishima makes a soft, punched-out sound. 

“I’ll get there soon.” Behind the mask, Sakusa licks his lips. “And I promise it will be worth the wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i take requests! [visit my carrd](https://greenywrites.carrd.co/#commissions) and scroll down to the bottom for more info. 
> 
> kudos/comments refill my stamina bar <3


	13. asadaisuga (passing notes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: asahi x daichi x sugawara
> 
> additional notes: nonbinary sugawara, they/them pronouns for sugawara, implied sexual intimacy between minors, polyamory (m/m/n-b)

A tiny square of paper plops onto his desk. It skips across his notebook and knocks his pencil into the center crease. Asahi sits back, startled. He glances at Sugawara, who watches him  _ very intently. _

“Open it!” they mouth. Asahi sighs, fondly resigned. He unfolds the small square. Inside, it reads: 

_  
lunch time fun? ;) ◯ yes ◯ no _

  
Asahi glances wide-eyed at Sugawara, who ignores him and listens to the teacher with frankly suspicious dedication. Asahi neatly checks  _ no _ — because it is too dangerous to give Sugawara permission when there is a winky face involved — and when the teacher’s back is turned, leans over and sets the slip of paper on the edge of Sugawara’s desk. 

Five minutes before the end of class, another folded square skitters across his notes. He barely snatches it before it falls on the floor. 

_  
lunch time fun? ;) ◯ yes ◯ hell yes   
_ _ (daichi said yes) _

  
The bell rings for lunch, and Asahi swivels in his seat. His face is bright red. 

“I don’t believe you,” he says, accusatory. 

“Believe who?” Daichi appears between their desks, bento in hand. Asahi hands him the slip. 

Daichi frowns at their silver-haired joyfriend. “Your text said  _ study session _ , not  _ lunch time fun _ .” 

“It could be both.” Sugawara shrugs innocently, though the tilt of their mouth is anything but. Their eyes are molten when they glances at Asahi and Daichi, very slowly licking their lips. “We could study and _also_ have fun.” 

“Suga,” Asahi pleads just as Daichi sighs, “Jesus Christ.” 

Sugawara smirks. No one studies.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i take requests! [visit my carrd](https://greenywrites.carrd.co/#commissions) and scroll down to the bottom for more info. 
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> kudos/comments refill my stamina bar <3


End file.
